


The Dancer

by highlycommendable



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23884672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highlycommendable/pseuds/highlycommendable
Summary: When there's rumour of a Jedi on Denon, the city-planet, Poe Dameron and the newly remade Black Squadron head there to attempt a Resistance recruitment. Poe, however, certainly did not expect who he ended up with.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	1. Underground

**Author's Note:**

> yah so imagine the gap between tlj and tros is BIG. like bigger. no bigger than what ur imagining. nvm. its big tho.

"Are you _sure_ this is the place?" Poe scoffs into his comms. The city of Denon thrums with midnight business, cars and transports passing wildly above, far away from the thick underground of the Red-Light district. It should be purple light. The street outside Club Eden is swamped in a delirious violet light, one that bounces off the shallow puddles of rain, and shimmers all around the small square. The trees have turned to amethyst, and every passer-by is doused in a beautiful colour. Poe doesn't stand out here, and neither does Suralinda, or Jessika, where they hesitate in the outdoor space. He adjusts the cuffs of his new dark jacket, the one with yellow patches on the shoulder this time, not red. It’s brand-new, and Suralinda thinks he looks like an idiot.

“Yeah.” Comes from way above. Karé, Snap and L’ulo wait in the transport, a neutral marked one, where the new addition to the Resistance would hopefully come peacefully. How Leia managed to get word of this Jedi, Poe didn’t know, and he wouldn’t question it either, for fear of the older woman. Rey seemed pretty excited- she wanted a training partner, like Leia had, with Luke, her brother.

The question was, this time, would the Jedi even join them? It was a risk. Being a Jedi now was still a risk, especially since the First Order had eyes and ears everywhere. They’d love another crazed Force-user to join their ranks. Kylo Ren would have a new friend. But, thinking on the bright-side, this would go alright.

When you’re toe to toe with the scariest pricks in the galaxy, you had to be optimistic.

“Club Eden? Yeah. It’s dangerous, Poe, you lot be careful.” Snap says over the comms. “Leia says they have face tattoos. Apparently.” He sounds sceptical. “Now, get in there, we’re in the danger-zone. First Order could be anywhere.”

“For sure, buddy. Guys, let’s go.” Poe gestures to his plainly dressed squad members, and they traverse the neon glowing steps of the Club, before slipping inside. “Face tattoos. Promising.”

“Could be genetical. Or tradition. Mirialan? Pantoran?” Suralinda reminds Poe, jostling through the thick crowd beside him. “They’ll have been hiding here for years. They won’t be any younger than eighteen- not to work in this place.”

Jessika cringes.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She whispers, staring at a group of men and a young girl on their far left. “Anyway… Leia would have been able to tell us if she was so young.”

“True.” Suralinda replies. Poe nudges his way through to the bar and orders three sunfruit liquors. “What are you doing?”

“We gotta blend in, not stand in the middle of the place looking for a Jedi.” Poe says gruffly. This place was not his sort of thing. He was getting eaten up left right and centre by other patrons, their eyes glancing over him like he was their next meal. Fuck the cities, he thought, sipping the sweet sunfruit drink. He averts his eyes from the women waltzing around the floor, and looks at the dancers on the podiums. They swung on poles and wrapped themselves around their customers, as credits were thrown into the money slots on the neon-lit platforms. One was a Squamatan, one that Suralinda seemed quite shocked with, the second was a Twi’lek with bright pink skin and a glittery smile. Barely any of the two girl’s skin was covered up.

The third was human. Human, with roan pink tattoos across her right cheekbone, a little cluster of four identical diamonds. She’s moving like liquid silk, deliriously twisting around and around, her body… her body… Poe flushes red and looks away. She’s gorgeous, not so tiny like the other girls. She had a good handful to her- one that elicited the naughtiest thoughts in the Commander.

“I see her.” Poe murmurs to Sura. He takes up his glass again, and looks up at the woman. She locks eyes with him, and gives a sugar-sweet smile, one that bounces around Poe’s now-hollow ribcage. That’s promising. A raise of the eyebrow, and she gestures to the DJ, who announces her finish. “Oh-kay, I think she’s coming over.” Sura’s quick to rush away. “Hey!”

“This is you, buddy. Get her in private, if you can. And try not to fall for the mind-tricks.” Jessika disappears too. Poe swallows the rest of his sunfruit and murmurs a quick prayer to the Gods, before there’s the telltale click of glass heels along the floor behind him. A hand slips around his middle, and he’s jumped, shocked by how bold the woman is.

“Hey, handsome. Want a dance?” She drawls, her voice like pure sex. Poe clears his throat and pastes on his flirt-smile, the one he used with the technicians when he found a new illegal mod for them to put into Black One. She raises a calculated eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I left my credits at home.” He purrs, pushing a lock of dark purple-red hair back behind her ear. It’s a beautiful colour, and soft, too.

“For free, then?” She murmurs, her fingertips, with the red manicure, drawing patterns on his chest. “I do like my Resistance boys…” Poe pauses, raising an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, I know a few of them. Come on, flyboy, let’s go out back.” She snags his hand and pulls him along, the sway of her hips mesmerising under the soft, chainmail silver bikini. He doesn’t want to look, but he can’t help glancing along her legs as they go, the long, sculpted length of them. 

‘Out back’ is booths, big plush armchairs, dark lights, sheer curtains, and sultry, thick music. Poe tries not to look in the occupied ones, the ones nearer the front, but hears the noises, and suddenly feels a little light-headed. He definitely wasn’t cut out for this sort of stuff. The back is more empty, though, with no occupancies, and the woman takes that as notice. No one would hear the conversation. She holds back the sheer curtain of glowing, thread-thin strings of priceless metal and lets Poe in. 

“They can’t hear, but they watch on the cameras. I’m going to dance for you.” His eyes bulge out of his head and he chokes on the thick air. “Don’t get too choked up there, cowboy.” She unclips the shining fringed part of her top, the diamante slipping to the floor. Her toned midriff is enough for Poe to avert his eyes. “At least look like you’re enjoying it.” He sits down, and she approaches, slowly, just as Poe dies. She mounts his lap with expert precision. “They normally do.”

It’s becoming a little tough for Poe to ignore her warmth all over him- no matter how much he thinks about BB-8 being in the corner to turn him down a notch.

“What do you want from me? The other Resistance boys were a lot more… loud when they came in- you stared right at me.” She slides her hands around his neck, and pushes her face along his stubbled jaw, nipping at his warm skin. Poe knows he’s sporting at least a half-tent downstairs, but before he can apologise, she slips away, dropping to her knees straight between his own.

“We need your help. General Leia Organa saw you in a Force vision- you’re a Jedi.” Her eyes drop from seductive to calculated in one beat. “We could use a Jedi… You aren’t safe here.”

“Oh? Is this new base of yours still intact?” She snipes, dragging her nails down the soft material of his pants. She peers at his crotch and swallows deeply. Poe is a mess.

“Yeah. Look- I ain’t gonna force you, sweetheart.” Her eyebrows twitch in amusement. “I just… Leia thinks you should go there with her. She can teach you how to harness the Force.”

“Bold to assume I don’t already know.” He shoots her a sceptical look. “I’m safe here.”

“No, you’re definitely not.” She stretches to full height and bends over, too slowly, in front of him. He gulps down his nerves and settles comfortably in the plush seat. “It was easy to find you. Kylo Ren can do the same thing to you.”

“Ben Solo?” Poe almost jumps in his seat at her firm recognition. “I knew him, and I know him now. I have walls thrown up. How your precious General got through them, I don’t know.” Poe’s jaw tenses firmly when she drops backwards onto his lap, throwing a hand into his curls. He passes his fingers over the shining sheet of plum-red hair that swings down from her thrown-back head.

“Just come with us, sweetheart. You can learn how to fix ships, how to fly, do whatever you want.” She turns her head slightly, the smallest of inclinations. She suddenly scrambles off Poe’s lap, her head turned toward the entrance.

“You’ve brought them here.”

“First Order?”

“You brought them here.”

“Come on, sweetheart, we gotta go.”

“I don’t have much of a choice now, do I, flyboy?”


	2. Ajan Kloss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dancer makes it back to the Resistance base- she's not so pleased, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yeah this is a ren plot btw it doesn't exist silly

It’s the blaring, sensual music that throws the battle off. Suralinda and Jess have hidden behind a podium, trading blaster shots with a squad of troopers just walking through the doors. Their heads swivel when Poe leaves the back room, and they exclaim when a barrage of beams hit the wall not far from him and their new ally.

“Pilot, give me your jacket.” She thuds her fist against his chest. He ducks through another flash of bolts and quickly takes the leather off, tossing it to her over the chorus of battle. A new song switches on. “Oh, this one would have been so good to dance to.” It’s a disco-soul sounding beat, one that she is obviously familiar with. “You can call me Elisa- not what I’m used to, but I don’t think Telerri would work as nice, and it’s not my real name. Elisa Cerinon.”

“Poe Dameron.” He watches her pull on his new jacket, pulling the zip up with a grim face. “Sura!” The two girls turn around, another cluster of blaster bolts igniting before their faces. “Shit, we aren’t gonna get through this without the others.” He lifts his comms to his mouth. “Snap, bring it down outside the club. Charge up hyperdrive for home, buddy. We got company.”

“I know, Dameron. Karé and L’ulo are in the middle of it.” 

“Kriff.” Poe curses, peering over the top of the podium.

“I’ll take care of them.” Elisa murmurs. Poe does a vicious double take, shock barrel-rolling down the column of his spine. She lifts a hand, her eyelids fluttering shut.

Through the darkness, something long comes hurtling, long and dark, made of a metal Poe can’t name. He realises what it is before she stands up. With a spring and a leap, she goes hurtling towards the barrier of white and black. She reaches Sura and Jess’ podium, swinging herself on top.

The lightsaber ignites in a double bladed glory of purple, a soft beam, nothing like Kylo Ren’s, but she breaks them apart into duel blades, and leaps down onto the brigade of troopers. Poe takes the second of alarm to run for Sura and Jess who gape upon the carnage. Elisa goes slicing through three with one swipe, blocking blaster shots with her other hand, another two dropping. Five remain, standing strong, but Elisa reconnects her blades and ducks beneath the first shots, spinning on her knees, and taking three heads. The other two panic, their guns going off sporadically, and Elisa finishes them with a quick strike. She stands in the smoke, pant-less, wearing Poe’s jacket, blade glowing.

“Come on. There’s always more on the way.” She grumbles, ducking through the entrance and turning the lightsaber off. Sura stutters, clambering voicelessly to her feet. Jess gives a short bark of elated laughter and runs after the Jedi, who stands in the rain outside, looking into the sky. Poe follows her gaze.

There’s a small fleet in the sky, First Order. Not Ren, but close enough. Elisa stands soundless, her jaw set in frustration, her brow crinkled with annoyance. Poe reaches out to touch her shoulder, but she jerks away and marches for the transport. Shit.

Poe follows her on, with Sura and Jess in quick convoy.

“Snap, let’s go.” Poe taps on the back of the pilot’s seat, and the transport lifts into the air. Poe re-enters the hold, catches sight of Sura and Jess, but not Elisa. Sura gestures at the seat in the far corner. Curled up, arms around her knees, she hides, strapped in and silent. In one hand she clutches the saber, and in the other, she hides her face. Poe’s stomach drops. 

The transport speeds for the sky, and Poe sits down, quiet and defeated.

—

Ajan Kloss is beautiful this time of year. The entire planet’s surface is covered with thick, lush forests, where Poe liked to grab a bit of peace, up in the branches, or hidden behind a trunk. The Resistance had crept into the base and begun to build not long ago, since Krait, and now the runway is aloof with life, the hangars stuffed full of aspiring pilots, technicians, communications officers, all sorts. Poe runs his tongue along his bottom lip as Snap slowly brings the ship down in the centre of the landing strip, a group of technicians guiding him into place. Poe looks around for Leia, and she’s walking towards the transport, flanked by her comms officer. 

“Poe. She’s outside.” Sura says sharply, pointing toward the ramp. Poe curses under his breath and rushes through the hold, boots catching on heavy metal grates, when he sees her. She’s staring at the trees and life.

Head inclined, in the light, she seems a different person. The tattoos on her cheek were no longer dark, but bright, painted elegantly in the pink tones, and her face had relaxed. She breathes a deep breath, still wrapped up in Poe’s jacket, and blinks around the green. It’s almost like… almost like had never seen it before. 

“Elisa.” Her head snaps to his position, standing on the transport, hand outstretched. “We are on Ajan Kloss. This is the Resistance base. General Organa-”

Elisa turns her head away from him, running her hands over the smooth metal of her saber.

“Commander Dameron.” Leia calls from behind the pair of them. Poe turns, but Elisa doesn’t still focused deeply on the forests and bushes of Ajan Kloss. “And our new friend.” Leia turns a sceptical, aged eye on Poe, who shrugs and shakes his head slightly. “Perhaps we’ll let her settle in before jumping her with plans, Dameron.”

“Elisa-”

“I’ve never seen so much life in the galaxy.” She whispers, her hand extending to touch a nearby whirl of reeds striking up from the ground. “I’ve also never asked to do such things.” Leia clears her throat awkwardly and gives Poe a firm look.

“First Order tracked us to the planet.” He stutters. “We think.”

“Can someone get Elisa some clothes?” Sura strikes from the extended ramp of the ship. Her blue skin glows, and she gives Poe a firm look. “My god, you’re all animals. Elisa, come on, let’s go get something to eat, I’m damn starving.” Sura extends a hand to the hunched Jedi, and quickly leads them away. Jess follows, grabbing some spare clothes from the transport before rushing after them. Poe shakes his head firmly and approaches the General.

“So, you took her against her will?” Leia asks, crossing her arms.

“I gave her a choice, sort of. Die to the First Order, be captured, or run with us.” Poe sets his brow firmly. “She chose to fight, and took out a whole platoon of stormtroopers. She’s more powerful than we’ve ever seen.” Leia scoffs.

“I’m sure Rey would be delighted to hear that.”

“Well, she’ll be of use to us on the Falcon when we make the big runs, since she’s already trained.” Leia frowns, turning her head briefly. “And she knows your son.” Her eyes dip to the ground, but she does not speak.

“Then it’s likely she would have trained with him under Luke… we’ll have to wait until she’s prepared to speak and negotiate with us.” Leia gives Poe a firm look, and murmurs something quietly, before turning back for the base. “Just look out for her. I don’t trust everyone around here.”

With those parting words, she leaves Poe on the landing strip. Snap claps his shoulder cheerily.

“Come on, pal, let’s go get some grub.”


	3. A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elisa makes a friend in the Resistance- one she can trust. Poe isn't so pleased, and continues to be irritated by her cold persona.

I crouch against the crates and boxes of the secluded sector of hangar, just as the BB unit decides he likes me, bumping against my knee. I dip my paintbrush into the pot of bright orange and angle the head of the droid gently.

“Stay still, BB-8. I’ll just touch this up, then I can put in the speed boosters. You’ll be quicker than a speeder bike in no time.” It had been three days on this hunk of dirt moon, being stared at, staying inside my new room, or staying in this quiet sector of hangar. Everyone seemed to have disappeared for lunch, whatever the hellhole was serving. It was nothing like home, like Denon, where the food was plentiful, cheap, and unhealthy. 

I pause in my brushstroke. 

Maybe the cause was what brought the undeterred shine to this place.

Like the old days, before the Purge. Hope. My lightsaber was tucked far away in my quarters, in one of the closed up rooms. It had the tiny kitchenette, and the seats, and the bed, where I’d spent about ninety percent of my time yesterday.

The BB unit whirs in delight when I finish up the gleam of orange along his head, spinning a few times in place. He’s cute, like a Loth cat kitten. 

“There you go, bud. You’re good to go. You want me to adjust those speed boosters now?” He gives a trill of beeps in return and I nod stiffly, bending over the bench. I liked doing my work upside down… my Jedi Master used to make us practise the Force while hanging upside down. He said he’d harnessed it upside down once to save his life.

I hang on my hips and detach BB-8’s side panel, removing the speed mod there and snagging the other one from the crate below me. I hitch the screwdriver’s handle and quickly readjust the new addition, when someone clears their throat from behind me. I leap up, and lose my balance, toppling backwards, into a pair of arms I don’t particularly want to know.

Ever since I abandoned Denon and Club Eden, he’d been lurking in the distance. Assigned to me. Poe kriffing Dameron. I did not want to hear the stories and the legends from the hundred- or, however many, people on this planet. I did not want to see him.

Perhaps I was being harsh.

But now I am more at risk than I was on Denon- all for the Resistance’s cause. I was a weapon, like usual.

“Commander Dameron. What a pleasure. How long were you standing there?” I ask sharply from his arms, standing upright from him. He’s handsome, dark, thick haired, with those killer eyes and that golden smile. A perfect poster-boy. And a brilliant pilot. And now he’s blushing.

“Not long. Bee, buddy, what are you doing here?” Poe kneels down to check the droid. “Is that a new speed adjustment?” He glances up at me. I raise an eyebrow coldly, quickly screwing his side panel back on, and turn away from the pair of them. “Have you been modding him?”

“Today.” He scoffs softly. I shake my head. “You’re quite hostile, aren’t you, pilot?”

“I’m the hostile one? We saved you-”

“From a certain life of luxury and enjoyment? I liked the dancing.” I retort, a little loud, as a few heads turn our way. “Call me what you want- a whore, a slut, but it was freeing, from a life of servitude. A life of regret. I’d… Will you just leave me be? Or do I have to stun you?”

“Stun- pah!” He laughs sarcastically, his eyes narrowing.

He had an ego the size of three suns, too, I forgot to mention.

“For the Gods sake, maybe I should put a pin in you. Your ego is choking me… Poor BB-8.” Poe shoots a look at the droid then back to me, where I turn, throwing my hair up into a ponytail. “Run along,” I sidle up to him, standing so close I notice the red flush along his cheekbones, my left hip pressing into his right. “Or I will shoot you.”

“Screw it. And screw you, too, sweetheart. Come on, BB-8.” The sun dances off his orange jumpsuited shoulders as he goes, painting his thick curls a glow I can’t put to words. The breath returns to my chest, and I lean down to the droid, patting his rounded body. 

“Go get ‘em, bud.” BB-8 shoots off, scooting along the ground at a new pace, catching up to his master in moments. I set my hands on my hips and watch them leave. 

It’s nice watching Dameron leave. He’s got some-

“Elisa?” Someone asks from behind my crates.

Suralinda Javos looks at me, her eyes widened in panic, when she notices my hostile stance and grim expression. She’s a Squamatan, slight, angular, with blue skin and brown eyes. I think she’s pretty cool- she’s the newer Black Squadron member, and completely aware of Poe Dameron’s asshole side. That happened when he went for a shot on a TIE-fighter, but knocked Sura out of the sky on his way.

“Sura.” My tone is clipped, but she realises who its for when she follows my gaze from the hangar. She gives a short smile, and hops onto the crates. She holds a starfruit in one hand and chews a mouthful, watching me. “What?”

“You look like you’re ready to set fire to Dameron’s behind with your purple stick.” She quips, grinning mischievously into her fruit.

“I am.” There’s a beat of silence.

“He’s not all bad, you know.” Sura murmurs tentatively, cocking her head. I lift the screwdriver and fiddle with the head, giving her an unimpressed look. “He’s, uh… quite sensitive. He takes a lot of the shit around here to heart… one of those things being you.” I shut my eyes for a moment, massaging my temples with my fingertips. “He’s sorry… uh… for taking you so quickly. He would have left you, if you’d wanted.”

“That’s nice.” Sura pauses, shaking her head.

“Sorry. I just wanted to at least try and sway your ‘dislike’ on him. He’s not been so peppy lately.” I purse my lips and shrug, pasting on a casual smile.

“He’s just a softie, then. I haven’t been any more rude than he has been to me with his lovely ego, and suitably irrational confidence.” I reply gesturing for the second starfruit she pulls out. I sink my teeth into it and moan graciously. “Oh, well this is something I can definitely get used to.”

“They’re good, huh.” Sura grins. “Wait til’ you taste the sand cookies Jess makes.”

“Oh, yeah?” I smile tentatively.

“Yeah.”


	4. A Punch And A Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elisa is finally tired of Poe's snark. Leia Organa sends the Falcon on a mission- Elisa included.

I’m careful with the engine on Jessika Pava’s X-wing, only touching the parts I know, and the parts I can learn easily. I hold the illegal space mod in one hand and push myself into the nook that is her X-wing’s engine. She’d whispered to me over dinner yesterday, ‘I heard you can fix shit. Can you put a speed mod in my engine? I’m gonna beat Dameron in the skies’. That sold it.

I gently remove the casing around her gearbox and slip the small metal disc into place, pushing with the knuckles of my fingers, until it clicks into place. My lithe body can fit into the tiny crawlspace, barely, with my hips getting stuck at the entrance, but I can Force-push it into place.

Still, that doesn’t need to happen when I can press the thin edge with my hands. I scramble backwards through the crawlspace, almost out when someone barks something loudly to me.

“Elisa!” I smack my head firmly on the metal rim running around the crawlspace and curse, tears flying to my eyes. It throbs, and it hurt. Like a bitch.

Poe Dameron watches on, wincing slightly, when I stand up, rubbing the spot where it hurts the most with oil stained fingers. I’m dressed simply, in a black combat bra and loose Resistance-grade work pants, clothes for working, but I don’t miss the routine stare Poe has at my appearance. It’s been a week and half since I’d last told him to fuck off, and now he was coming back for the same thing again. His cockiness is unrivalled.

“What the fuck, Dameron?” I ask sharply, throwing down the empty mod casing onto the workbench with a clatter.

“How was I supposed to know you were gonna hit your head, sweetheart?” He calls cheerily. “Leia needs a few of us along for a mission brief. You’re up.” I narrow my eyes at the pilot.

Screw the long-term upset over being removed from my natural habitat on Denon- Poe Dameron was a cocky, confident, handsome poster boy, and I had every desire to pick apart his ego string by string until he was threadbare in solitary. It was the too flirty smile with the General’s second-hand men and women that got my gears grinding, or the sly comments just to piss me off when I was in earshot. I think my death-threat had probably spiked those.

Maybe Sura had been right.

Poor, sensitive baby.

“How wonderful. A week or longer with you. Pleasant.” I mutter. It’s a childish jab, but it annoys Poe, and he huffs, crossing his arms.

“Sometimes I wish you’d just open that mouth of yours a little longer and see what else comes spillin’ out.” He grumbles, head shaking. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“Nerve?” I hoist a wrench into the air and go about adjusting the engine panels on Jess’ ship. “I’m getting over the whole recruitment thing, but I’m starting to realise it’s just you, Dameron. A gigantic prick at the best of times.” I toss the metal back onto the workbench. It clatters, and a few heads raise to us from nearby. Snap shares a cringe with Karé, which I do not miss.

“You don’t know me.”

“You’re not hard to know. Poster-boy for the Resistance… reckless and careless flyer, selfish, a huge asshole, self-absorbed, ego the size of a planet… what else?” I hold up my fingers, clocking the dark anger that pools in the Commander’s eyes. He’s annoyed. Good. “Oh, yeah! The fact you got handed your rank on a silver platter, too, maybe?”

Poe does a poisonous double-take. It stops all the breathing in my chest, and sours me like old milk.

“What did you just say?” Cool floods his tone.

“I said, you were handed your rank on a god-damned platter. Oh, what a surprise, son of two brilliant Resistance members, Commander!” I know I’ve really done it this time. He’s boiling over like a pan, and jabs his finger in my face when I’m done slating him.

“Silver-platter… you should be greatful, by Maker, I got you out of that Denon hellhole. You’ve been nothing but rude and a bitch since we left that planet. Maybe I should have left you there!” He barks. I feel my fingers twitch. Anger swells in me like a chorus, and the vein in my neck pulses. My blood rockets, X-wing fashion, through my body, and I wonder if I may explode. “I’m sure you would have danced for anyone who came in. Where did you learn it?” He pauses, before continuing. I shrink back a step. “Your old Jedi Master train you how to work a pole? I’m sure he was happy when he left you-”

And Poe Dameron’s knocked clean out in one second, by my foot to his face.

Black Squadron’s Commander and the poster-boy of the Resistance lays crumpled on the dusty hangar floor, blind to the world.

I turn around and return to Jess’ ship.

—

Leia Organa isn’t particularly happy. She’s on one side of the powered-down holotable, and I’m with Poe on the other side. She softens the annoyed crease between her brows with a finger and sighs, loudly, clearly. I wince, rolling out the crick in my ankle.

Poe’s got an ice-pack clutched to his cheek and a frown riddling his features. He’s not pleased, to say the least, and we both sit there like children being scolded.

“So… you both have a mission to go on, and here you are, knocking each other out in the hangar.” Leia sighs, holding her head in one hand. “My top Commander, and our new friend… I can demote you, Dameron, for provoking her, and I can just ground you, Elisa.” This is only the third time I’d spoken to General, formerly Princess, Leia Organa, but she seems… war-weathered, intelligent, bold. I blink at her slowly.

“Demote- for what, exactly?”

“Being an A-grade asshole, Poe.” Leia suddenly strikes, springing a grin across my features that I have to smother with one hand.

“Right.” He grits out between his teeth, smoothing over his face with two hands, dropping the ice-pack to the holotable. “Well, I’m sorry, okay? No need to demote me.” I narrow my eyes at him for a moment, before extending my hand to his in a ‘truce’. “Look, Leia, I gotta go do checks on the Falcon before we take off, can I go?”

“You’re doing actual checks, for once? Yeah, Commander, get going.” Poe scrambles up and makes a hasty exit. I sit quietly opposite Leia, when she finally zeroes in, and crosses her hands under her chin. She fixes me with a contemplative look. “Elisa. I know what happened to you. I know how traumatic that must have been, and I know you were the one with my son.”

Elisa freezes, eyes glancing up to the General.

“I know what the Order did to you, and although we may be strangers, I am proud of you for getting out- turning back. I just wonder whether my son is capable of the same thing.” I bite my tongue and give her a muted smile. “You don’t talk about it much, do you?”

“No, ma’am.” I pause. “I don’t want to even have the chance of going back on my training with Luke.” Her eyes soften at the corners, pooling with understanding- knowledge. “I heard about the other Jedi here. Is she training?”

“Yes. I’m training her. We could probably use your help soon, though. But for now, just go on, get that information from Canto Bight, and come back in one piece.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	5. Casinos and Spies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canto Bight is a place of Elisa's acquaintances. More-so, the First Order spy. Oh, she knows him, alright.

Canto Bight was full of surprises. Huge, floppy-eared creatures, beautiful architecture, thin streets, vibrant people. I’d never been here personally, but I’d heard the stories. A Red-light district to challenge even Denon and Coruscant. 

Poe leads the five of us through the crowd. Jess and L’ulo stay behind on the transport, guarding it. We’re dressed finely, in new garms, Sura, Karé and I in gowns, Snap and Poe in handsomely decorated suits. We play the role of new money from the high-ups of Corellia, sons and daughters of the rich and wealthy. I’ve utilised some of my old skills to make me and the girls up, and we look striking, sharp, dangerous. Enough for the men to keep their hands off.

Poe’s hiding a blaster in the slope of his back, tucked into the dress pants, and the rest of us have vibroblades, or a saber, slipped into the dips of fabric surrounding us. Karé swears as we scale the steps before the grand casino, almost tripping up on the long straight of purple fabric she wears. It glows- embroidered with the bioluminescence formula of glow-worms from Kashykk. Sura’s slim and able in her dress, probably trained from her days as a journalist, waltzing into fancy parties dressed like this. She’s in black, a long-sleeved, no shoulders dress, with a sweeping train. It had a belt clipping the skirt on, though, easy for escapes. 

I wear white, with every square inch embroidered with tiny clear jewels, the neck line square down my chest to the thick belt of white. It’s flattering, and I’m grasping eyes as we pass the other patrons.

Poe and Snap are wearing matching navy suits, tails, Naval wings, and so on. Poe looks nice. 

I clear my throat quietly and shake my head out of my trance, just as we drift into the casino, setting surrounding us strangers in the lobby. I feel quite at home, suddenly, glancing around at the tall tables of gamblers, war-profiteers, and into the darker rooms cordoned off where the pale figures of females and males dancing can be seen through the sheer curtains. Poe glances back at me.

“Bar.” I prompt, raising an eyebrow at him. He pulls his eyes off me and leads us all through the crowd. I give polite smiles to every woman who looks at me, and glances at every man who focuses on the sweeping adornments of pearls along my upper arms, dropping down in swathes around my biceps. I clasp my hands together as we approach the bar through an empty clearing of people. “We need to split up. We know the contact.” I murmur.

“Yeah. Human, dark hair, accompanied by a pink Twi’lek, probably. Wearing a white suit all over. Looks slimy.” Poe states, pausing in the space. “Elisa, you’re with me. Karé, Sura, Snap, go on.” I sidle up to Poe’s side as we push through more crowds, quiet. 

“We’re gonna play a role, huh?” I whisper. “People are staring.” I thread my arm through his, and push my body up against his side. He tenses. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Poe leans over at the bar and gestures for a pair of liquors. I give the bartend, an actual person, a glorious smile, and he hurries, dropping two amber drinks in front of us. “One for you, my love.” I notice the people peering over his shoulder and drape myself across him, my chest pressing against his arm, his hands causing a burning heat along my hips. I tip back the liquor and smile wickedly, leaning close into his face, brushing my lips along his jaw. He steels his face into a calm mask, and drifts his hand up and down my waist in languorous strokes. Playing the role of doting husband and wife dressed like this was… fun.

I wonder then, whether this was all the Resistance did. Playing spies. I could suddenly see the appeal. My lightsaber around my calf is cool, but that doesn’t soothe the heat of playing celibate so long when a capable man’s hands are finally on me.

He doesn’t notice my flushed state, not as he drinks, not as he peers down the bar subtly for our target. I spot Karé and Snap beside the target up the bar a ways, directly behind Poe and jab his shoulder softly, pasting an adoring smile along my lips.

“Behind you, six people, Karé and Snap.” No one’s listening to us, and Poe nods, with an affectionate grin, tugging me by the hand away from the bar. “Group up back on the transport.” I ask, in a whisper. We approach the exit slowly, taking a moment to peer at the tables of gamblers, giving each other a quick word of love, or a pet along the arm, the shoulder, the hip. We don’t want to look suspicious, and we’re out of the casino before long. Poe drops down the few steps of the casino and holds a hand out, helping me down. 

It’s then when I make eye-contact with the First Order officer and the Stormtroopers a few steps away. I give them a glimmering smile and turn away, nudging Poe. We quicken, and I look over my shoulder a moment too early.

The officer has turned, half-way, to peer back at me, and when we lock eyes, he shouts an order to his troopers. Luckily, we’re already into the market streets, and duck around a corner, still moving at a casual pace, through the tucks and winds of the Canto Bight Old Town. Each shop boasts beautiful wares, all the price of three X-wings, being pored over by elegantly dressed socialites and Senators, the kin of the rich and famous. The troopers are still following.

Poe pulls us into an empty alley, the width of three of us stood shoulder to shoulder. My skirts brush up against the dusty cobbles, and I hitch them higher out of instinct.

“You’re gonna have to trust me, shorty.” I frown at him, cocking my head. The thump of stormtroopers picks up, closer and closer. “Sorry.” He pulls me close, then, pulling a gasp from me, and slants his lips over mine. I make a sound of surprise, and embarrassedly melt into his hold. He’s persistent with the drift of his velveteen tongue over mine, effectively fucking my mouth, and his hands along my hips ignites an age-old heat in my stomach that I can’t contain. I wrap my arms around his neck, threading my fingers into his hair.

The stormtroopers look into the alley. I hear the crackly voice of one, too far for us to notice, but loud enough to hear, ‘Sir, they’re just patrons’. They soon march away. Poe doesn’t exactly stop kissing me, though, and squeezes my hips once before breaking away. He clears his throat and presses one more kiss to me, looking out of the alley.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Stop saying sorry. We’re safe, now.” I remove my hands from his hair, and step away, blush high on my cheeks and fiery, burning redder than ever. “Um, let’s get back to the transport.” I step out of the alleyway, and Poe follows.

We’re both pretty quiet until we walk up the ramp, and the team surround us. I push the brief event from my mind and give a tentative smile.


End file.
